Chapter 3
Later that night, Abigail was visited by Bray and knew it the moment she felt a warm body slide into bed with her. She didn't even have to turn over to know who was in bed with her or the lips that kissed her neck, the hand that stroked her stomach through the white nightgown she had on. The moon streamed through her window, the only light given to them and she turned to look at him, stare into his eyes that were only warm for her. Abigail did not know how sex felt, she was a virgin, a 26-year-old virgin, thanks to Bray and the fact he wouldn't let any other men near her or have her. He was the only one who would have her in the end and it pained her to know that, to know she wouldn't have a say in when that time came.
"Is everything okay?" She asked quietly, in a whisper, sighing when his mouth merely claimed hers in a passionate kiss. It was the same thing she asked him every night he came into her bed and all he did was respond with kissing and touching.
Everything was not all right. He was sending the purest creature he had ever known, HIS Abigail, into the relative unknown. The only thing he did know for sure was that, at the end of her road, was the Undertaker. Bray knew the man by reputation, but he knew the soldiers at the Undertaker's command because they were fierce, and both men AND women. He mentally snorted at that, his lips moving along her jawline, hands caressing her through her nightgown. Torturing them both, Bray knew it, but damned if he couldn't help himself.
Having this man touch her so intimately and lovingly confused the hell out of Abigail. She hated how Bray ran so hot and cold, one minute he was perfectly content and HER Bray, the Bray she remembered, and the next he was this vile, cruel creature she didn't recognize. It broke her heart to kiss him and touch him because she never wanted him to bed her. As much as she loved him, she wasn't in love with him the way he was her. Or maybe it was obsessed. She didn't know anymore. Abigail felt him roll them both to where she was on top, his mouth claiming hers again and she began grinding against him. It was out of pure instinct since her body felt like it was encased in fire. Bray sat upright slowly, breaking the kiss to look into her eyes and Abigail flushed from head to toe at the way he stared at her.
"Talk to me. Tell me what's on your mind." She coaxed in a soft voice, knowing better than to use any other tone with him and caressed his bare shoulders.
He had come to bed with her naked from the waist up, which wasn't out of the ordinary. Bray had a crazy dilemma on his hands. He knew what he made others do, got the basic principles of how it worked, but he and Abigail were different, still pure. They had been raised in the traditional Catholic lifestyle, including the flagellation beatings, thrashing the sin out of him. That hadn't worked he supposed, instead it had backfired greatly. He went with what felt good, what felt right, and knew where the lines were drawn. Abigail was just too precious, too special, and he wanted their first time, both their first time, to be the same.
"I love you, Abigail, you know that, right?" He moaned against her mouth, swiping his tongue along her bottom lip.
If only Bray did, if only she could believe him when he said those beautiful words. They fell on deaf ears with her because of everything he did, everything he'd forced poor, innocents to do in the name of his religion. Still, Abigail knew better than to not respond the correct way and nodded against his lips, burying her fingers in his hair.
"I know you do, Bray. I love you too." That left a bittersweet taste in her mouth because she did love him, in her own way.
Not the Bray he was now, but the Bray back then when they first escaped the horrid foster home. Damned if he couldn't kiss the breath out of her though and make her panties dampen in the process. It was a physical reaction, which was normal for the human body, but…mentally and emotionally, Abigail had shut down long ago and put on a splendid performance. Luckily, Bray couldn't detect the trickery in her, the deceit, the absence of what he craved most from her. She was responding, lighting his blood on fire and he knew he was sending her out into the unknown, which only pressed him on. His mouth roamed the column of her throat, his hands moving to find hers, lacing their fingers together and squeezing briefly before letting go. His hands moved to her waist and then slowly, almost hesitantly, down further, fingertips skimming her backside. His darkened blue eyes searched for hers in the moonlight.
"I want you, Abigail."
She merely smiled at him, though inside Abigail was panicking and hoped he stopped like usual…that tonight wasn't the night he wanted to take her for his own. Abigail was almost free of him, she just had to hold out a little longer until this plan of his came to fruition and then she could find the help she needed to bring down the DOV, to bring Bray down. There was no way she would egg him on further, though it didn't feel good to be touched on her backside because it was a change from the usual song and dance they did together.
"Why me?" That question escaped her before she could stop it, her eyes widening just a fraction and quickly pushed aside the surprise. "There are…other women here, countless women, you could take to your bed and breed with. So, what makes me so important to you, so special, from the others, Bray?"
Bray stared at her in surprise, hurt blossoming through his blue eyes. "That you should ask me that," His voice came out in a harsh whisper, his upper body pulling away from her, though his hands moved back to her waist. "You're MY Abigail." He kissed her forehead, wetness in his eyes that he blinked away. "What we've been through together, what we've suffered," Bray gnashed his teeth, guiding her arms around him until he felt her palms on his back, skimming the scars they both knew too well. "You saved me, Abbie, you saved me so many times." His forehead rolled against hers, his mouth pressing against hers again. "And I, and the Dominion, will deliver this world, renewed and reborn, to you."
Tears filled her eyes, even though she'd heard it plenty of times before, how he was doing this all for her. That meant every woman that was raped and forced to breed, every woman that was ripped from their homes, was her fault. "You saved me too." That was the complete, honest truth.
If Bray hadn't gotten her out of the foster home when he did, Abigail shuddered to think what might have happened with him gone. However, that didn't excuse what Bray was doing. There were other ways to build an army, other ways to change the world in a positive way. Everything he did was negative, and he did it for her, which made her sick to her stomach.
"I-I'm sorry, I just…I haven't asked you that question before and it's been weighing on me. I didn't want you to get mad at me, so…I didn't ask it, but…it kind of slipped out. Please don't be angry with me…"
"I'm never truly angry with you, Abbie, you know this." He sounded almost sullen, more offended and hurt than anything.
She knew what she meant to him, hadn't Bray told her enough? Hadn't he proved it? He had raised an army; he was changing the world. They would be able to grow old under the Dominion of Vesperia, knowing what they had suffered would never happen again. If he had to destroy a few hundred lives to deliver Abigail and himself a perfect world, so be it. He would be forgiven all trespasses, he knew it. He FELT it.
"Hey, look at me, please." Abigail had to make this right somehow and pressed her forehead against his while stroking his back, the scars not bothering her. "Sometimes I feel like…I'm not good enough for you, Bray. You plucked me from obscurity and you didn't have to. You could've escaped the foster home without me and never looked back and built this all on your own." She stroked his face, seeing her words were getting through to him and smiled softly. "I just wanted to make sure I'm what you truly want. I know you've said it and you've more than proven to me how much you love me, but love can also die…and I never want that to happen between us." She kissed him soundly, passionately, not pulling back until they both needed air. "I won't ever ask you that again because I have my answer and I know how you feel, without any doubts. Thank you for telling me."
Just like that, all was right again, and he didn't feel hurt or offended, the smile back on his face. "Lay with me," Bray whispered, laying down on the bed and pulled her with him into his arms. Sighing in contentment, he ran his fingers up her arm, feeling her nestling into his side. "This is how I want it to always be between us, Abbie." He rumbled softly. "Always like this, all right? You and me, promise?"
If only she could actually promise him that, if only he knew how much this hurt her. "You and me forever, Bray. I promise." Abigail whispered, not having a choice in the matter except to say what he wanted and needed to hear.
Luckily, she was a master at deceiving him and felt his arms wrap around her tighter, spooning up against her back. Once again, she could feel his erection digging into her backside, but Abigail didn't move and simply lay there. Staring out the window, she didn't let the tears fall until she heard his deep snoring and even breathing.
"All right," Luke Harper was one of Bray's most trusted and, while he was a bit sick in the head, was also a brilliant strategist and planner. "So…" It was bright and early with him and Bray was in the war room, a map spread out as they drank their morning coffee and munched on fresh fruit. "You want her to go in as a servant, so she's going to need to look the part." Bray was great coming up with plans, Luke got to help with all the minute details because that was his thing. "So, we'll need to get her some used, but serviceable clothing and not in white."
Seeing Abigail in something besides white… his mind took him back years ago when she had worn nothing except dark colored frocks.
Of course, Abigail was there for the meeting since it revolved around her and the infiltration. She couldn't go in blind, Bray wouldn't allow it. Currently, she wore another white gown with silver etchings throughout it, her hair done and makeup on, looking like the pristine, queen of purity Bray wanted. It sickened her. Abigail could feel Bray's trepidation and slid her hand up his arm, soothing him the best way she knew how.
"Hey, it's okay if I wear color for this. He's right, you don't want me sticking out and he's already been to Wonderful, if I recall correctly. So, he knows what he's talking about." She despised and loathed Luke Harper, but Abigail had to play her cards right. Play the game as it were and play to win. "It would be even better if we could actually GET a set of servant's clothing from Wonderful to pass it off better, hmm?"
"Yeah sure, except I'm the only one who has been and, when I was there, I didn't think about grabbing some crone's clothing." Luke argued, frowning and exchanged looks with Bray. "It's not that much different from some of the stuff the women here wear. We could find one who might know how to sew, and I can draw up a sketch of what the outfits looked like."
"Good idea." Bray wasn't sending someone in just to steal an outfit. It would be risky, especially if anyone noticed the theft.
"Why don't I ask Valerie? She was a women's clothing designer before joining us." That was a very nice way of putting it.
The poor woman had been taken from her home, beaten and raped for weeks before she finally surrendered to the DOV way. It was despicable, but luckily Luke hadn't been the one who had the pleasure of having her. Abigail was to thank for that and she'd told the woman such, which was why they were good friends.
"I will talk to her about it and see what she can come up with. She's a good judge of character and knows the style."
Luke stared at Bray with a raised eyebrow.
"Luke has been to Wonderful, Abigail." He said patiently, his eyes icing over as he returned Luke's look. Bray already knew how this looked and would have to dismiss her from the planning if she didn't keep quiet for a bit. "He already knows the style and knows what we have on hand, and he can give this woman, this Valerie, a description. Why don't you go find something to do while we work out the details?"
Considering he doubted Valerie had seen any 'style' in years and her judgment of character meant dick… good call.
Did he actually just talk down to her in front of this peon?! Abigail had never been so insulted in her life and felt like punching Bray in the nose, knowing that would be grounds for immediate punishment. "You asked me to come to the meeting, Bray." There was no way she would allow him to get away with this. "Why am I here if you're dismissing me so suddenly?" When he just raised a brow at her, Abigail folded her arms in front of her chest and knew he was saving face in front of Luke. She didn't defend herself often, not needing to, but this time he had crossed a line. "Next time, don't invite me to your meeting. Just come and tell me what's going on. Excuse me." Storming out of the room, Abigail closed the door behind her and went to her chambers to scream in a pillow.
Bray held up a hand when Luke started to open his mouth, his own a thinly compressed grim line. Abigail had been placed on a pedestal, by him, but as a general rule, women were not overly valued for their intellect. It was their baby making abilities and that was about it.
"Draw your sketches, get with whatever seamstresses you can find."
Nodding, Luke left Bray to his thoughts.
